


Scarred Hearts

by HEWinter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/F, F/M, Other, Romance, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-20 05:01:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4774448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HEWinter/pseuds/HEWinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six girls, two years, one war, and no survivors.</p><p>Over the course of the First Wizarding War many hundreds, many thousands of people would die. Old, young, innocent, guilty, powerful, helpless. This is the story of six young girls, and those around them. This is the story of six girls who never thought they would die. Why would they? They were young.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Written by H.E. Winter  
> Beta'd by Davan J

Scarred Hearts

_The world is full enough of hurts and mischances without wars to multiply them._

\- J.R.R. Tolkien

Over the course of the First Wizarding War many hundreds, many thousands of people would die. Old, young, innocent, guilty, powerful, helpless. This is the story of six young girls, and those around them. This is the story of six girls who never thought they would die. Why would they? They were young.

They would never grow old. Not even remotely. In fact, they would never even live to see the end of the war that they had fought so desperately to win, whatever side they fought for. These girls would live to see a few more years, only a few. By the end of 1981, six girls would be dead. All in different ways, all at different times, all for different reasons. All their days were different, they experienced events in different emotion and stumbled out of bed on different sides, but in the very early hours of the morning of January 1st, 1979, the beginning of a new year, these six girls would find themselves doing the very same thing - crying - or at least trying not to. Six girls would find themselves crying because of a war which none of them started, but which all of them would be dragged into, one way or another.

On a street kerb in Cokeworth, a girl named Lily Evans sat next to her boyfriend, watching tear drops fall onto the pavement in front of her, trying not to look out of the corner of her eye, as a corpse was levitated out of her childhood home.

In a house where she had never felt at home, Elspeth MacClare stared at her reflection in the mirror and swiped away a single tear as her boyfriend - no, fiancé - stepped into the bathroom with her. He didn’t notice the salty tracks that streaked her cheeks.

Behind the wall of her office compartment at the Ministry of Magic, Dorcas Meadowes sank to the floor and pressed her eyes against her knees, determined not let any tears escape.

Slamming her bedroom door behind her, Cecily Nott squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth, as she peeled her sleeve back, exposing the milky white flesh of her arm, now tarnished with a stinging mark given to her by her brother.

Under her bed covers, Mary MacDonald lay alone in her dormitory, wishing she had gone home for the Christmas break, even though her family didn’t celebrate the holiday. The taste of salty tears mingled with the all fanciful dinners she had been treated to when she passed up a week with her family.

Down a dark alleyway, where tall, crooked buildings towered and crowded in on her, Quinn Callaghan threw the measly pile of gold she had just traded a family heirloom for onto the street. Then, after a moment, with hot tears brimming, she scrambled to pick them up again. 


	2. It Begins with an End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by H.E. Winter  
> Beta'd by Davan J

**_31st December 1978_ **

****

She should not have opened the door. Hadn’t she been told a thousand times? ‘Ignore the door.’ _Especially_ if she was home alone. But no one ever knocked on the door anymore. No one came to visit. Not for her. Not even the door to door salesman bothered to call, now that it was the middle of winter. 

        Tendrils of red hair curled in front of her face as her cheek pressed uncomfortably against the carpet. Footsteps thudded down the stairs.

        ‘The girl’s not here,’ a man with a deep voice grunted.

        ‘Doesn’t matter. We’re only here to pass on a message.’

        She wanted so desperately to ask what the message was. She would gladly pass it on if they would only let her up, leave her alone. But her jaw was locked, lips sealed. Try as she might, she couldn’t move a muscle.

        From the corner of her eye, she watched a pair of feet step slowly closer to her, and then stop, about two feet away. At that angle, she couldn’t see the person’s face. She couldn’t see much at all, past the hair that had fallen into her eyes, except for a picture frame laying on the floor. It was lying on its side, probably knocked off the mantlepiece as she had toppled to the floor earlier. Her little family looked out from the photograph, a scene on the beach, where they were all together, and happy. Through her hair she tried to focus on a pair of bright green eyes, staring back at her from the photograph.

        That was the last thing she saw before the high, clear voice of a woman yelled something which she couldn’t understand, green light filled the room, before everything went black.

****

* * *

 

Lily’s knuckles rapped against the heavy oak door, and she stepped back to stand alongside James, slipping her small hand into his large, calloused one. She couldn’t wait to get inside - firstly, because she was freezing, and her outfit comprising of her favourite red jumper, and James’ favourite pair of her jeans, was simply not cutting it, and secondly, because she was very, very excited. James tugged twice on her hand in an attempt to stop her from fidgeting.

        Regardless of what some might tell you, Lily Evans loved a good party. She could sink drinks with the best of them, and was a surprisingly good dancer. Unlike James, who, though quite remarkable on the Quidditch pitch, had two left feet on the dance floor. He enjoyed a decent party as well, but was decidedly unexcited about this one. Lily had been putting up with his objections all afternoon, as she got ready, and in the long minute that it took their host to answer the door, James decided to continue his steady stream of complaints.

        ‘We should’ve come closer to midnight,’ he said, standing resignedly beside her.

        ‘It’s a New Year’s party. You can’t arrive at midnight.’

        ‘Not _at_ midnight. Just closer to it.’

        ‘Why?’

        ‘Because McLaggen does my bloody head in, and I’d like to spend as little time as possible around that stupid arse.’

        Lily knew this, of course - James wasn’t one to keep his opinions to himself - and based off her limited contact with McLaggen, she had to agree. But since the war started, since they joined the resistance against the Dark Lord, they hadn’t been to a single party. The subdued outings to the Leaky Cauldron for birthday drinks and the like hardly counted, she thought. Nor the secretive toasts at headquarters on the rare occasion one of their missions was successful.

        Tonight, Lily and James were getting away from all that. Tonight, the hosts of the party had no idea that a small resistance group called the Order of the Phoenix existed, let alone that they were members. Tonight, they wouldn’t have to discuss their next mission. Tonight, they could relax. And tonight, she didn’t quite care _who_ was hosting the party, or what James thought of them, just so long as they had a good time.

        ‘Well, McLaggen wasn’t the one who invited us,’ she reminded him. ‘We’re not here to see that git. It’s going to be fun, alright?’

        Muffled music and laughter could be heard from inside the grand house, where the party was apparently in full swing. The noise reached a crescendo as the door swung open a minute later, revealing a bright eyed girl in a teal dress, her thick sandy hair tied up in milkmaid braids about her head. With a noise of delight she threw her arms out to her sides, and stepped forward, enveloping them both in a hug, kissing each of their cheeks in turn. Had this been McLaggen, punches probably would have been thrown, but this was not McLaggen. This was Elspeth MacClare - known more commonly as Ellie - girlfriend of the infamous McLaggen and childhood friend of James Potter.

        ‘Hullo!’ she greeted, with a strong Scottish accent. ‘Happy Hogmanay!’ She pulled back and looked at both of them happily. Though Lily certainly liked Ellie, she wasn’t as close with her as James was, and she knew Ellie wasn’t usually one for hugs, much less kisses. She suspected the hostess may have had some firewhisky, judging by the rosy glow of her cheeks.

        ‘How-ye, El,’ James said.

        ‘Good, good,’ she said, ‘Lily, you look lovely. Come in, come in.’ She grabbed both their hands and began to pull them up the step. She jabbered away - Lily never could understand she and James, once they got going - but then fell silent when a tall, broad-shouldered man with wavy blond hair pushed past, nudging her into the doorframe. He gripped James’ hand firmly, shaking it.

        ‘Potter,’ he said gruffly, with an accent even stronger than Ellie’s, ‘good to see you. Who’s this?’ He nodded in Lily’s direction.

        ‘Lily Evans,’ she said, although she had actually met the man a number of times before. Only a year ahead of she and James at school, they had been in the Slug Club - a collection of one of the professor’s favourite students -  together for a number of years.

        ‘Tiberius McLaggen,’ he said, now shaking her hand.

        It was at his house that the party was being held. McLaggen was a muscular man with a thick neck - so thick that it was as wide as his head - a square jaw, clear blue eyes, and hair that was always combed neatly across his head. She had always thought that he wouldn’t have looked out of place in one of those rugby games her Dad always used to watch on the television set. She didn’t much like him. Neither did James. And, the way she was leaning against the door, staring at him with narrowed eyes, Lily had the distinct impression that Ellie didn’t have much patience for him either.

        ‘Come on inside then, the pair of you.’

Tiberius McLaggen’s house was very large, and, it appeared, entirely comprised of highly polished wooden surfaces, rich oil paintings, and expensive looking vases. It didn’t look like the kind of home an ordinary 20 year old man might occupy. Despite the warm colouring, it had a cold, stiff, formal feeling. Everything had its place. Swaggering around in his maroon suit, Lily could imagine that this was exactly what his father looked like. She could imagine him shaking hands with all the other hot shots at the Ministry, spouting off about the _state_ of things these days, and how unfortunate it was about all the _dirty blood_. You could just tell, she thought, watching as he nodded and waved to his guests as he passed.

        ‘There are a lot of people here that you should meet, Potter. All big up and comers at the Ministry,’ McLaggen said, walking backwards as he spoke. James didn't say anything, but looked down at Lily and rolled his eyes as McLaggen turned away from them once more.

At some stage during their journey across the room, Ellie had managed to slip away. Jealous of this fact, Lily was disappointed when Tiberius stopped them at the bar - also highly polished - where a large group of men were laughing and tossing back glasses of firewhisky.

‘Lads,’ Tiberius said loudly, ‘this is James Potter and his girlfriend, Daisy.’

        ‘Lily,’ she and James corrected.

‘Of course,’ Tiberius nodded. ‘Shafiq,’ he continued, gripping a tall, smartly dressed olive-skinned wizard by the arm and pulling him forward, ‘Potter’s just got into the Auror training program as well.’ With that short introduction, apparently deeming his hosting duties taken care of, McLaggen walked away.

        ‘Pleased to meet you,’ the other wizard said. His voice was deep and husky, and he shook James and Lily’s hands in turn, using both of his.

        ‘You as well,’ James said. ‘Shafiq was it?’

        The olive-skinned wizard nodded. ‘Call me Dana.’

        ‘In that case call me James.’

        ‘And Lily,’ Dana said, ‘are you in the program as well?’

        ‘So, you’re in the training program that starts next week?’

        ‘No, actually,’ she said, trying to think of something to say other than that she fought Death Eaters in her spare time. ‘I - er - I work at a cinema in Cokeworth.’

        ‘A cinema! Really?’ Dana said with unexpected excitement. ‘I’ve never been to one. What’s it like?’

        ‘Er, well,’ Lily stammered, ‘I work in the projection room. So, I’m the one bringing everything to life, I suppose.’

        ‘I heard the pictures speak, as well as move,’ he said, leaning in conspiratorially. Lily giggled.

        ‘Yes, they do. James absolutely jumped out of his skin when I took him to see his first film. He thought it was only paintings that could do that. Tried to talk back to the actors,’ she laughed. Beside her, James grimaced.

        ‘You didn’t give me any warning!’

        ‘I thought you knew! Honestly, purebloods are so sheltered from muggle culture -’

        Lily was, at that moment, interrupted by a throat being cleared. She had hardly noticed a girl with dark, bushy hair, and large brown eyes sidle up to Dana, and slide an arm around his waist.

        ‘Dana,’ said the girl, ‘what’s this about muggle culture?’

        ‘Lily was just telling us about the cinema she works at. Just ingenious,’ Dana said.

        ‘Lily Evans. How quaint,’ she remarked.

        ‘How are you, Radella?’ Lily said, wanting desperately to change the topic of conversation.

        ‘I’m well,’ she said, and didn’t bother to return the question. ‘This party’s a bit of a bore though, isn’t it? My brother and my sister in law were supposed to be here as well, but she had the right idea in cancelling. The company’s not quite up to… standard.’

‘I agree,’ Lily replied. ‘I typically prefer my parties to have fewer passive aggressive prigs and better wine.’

‘And a lot more hors d’oeuvres,’ added James.

‘Yes… well…’ Radella dithered, as Lily gave her a sweet smile. ‘Well… ugh!’

With a frustrated snort, she grabbed a bewildered Dana by the arm and tugged him away.

‘Let’s get a drink, shall we?’ Lily said, watching the retreating backs of Dana and Radella.

        James was silent for a moment as he stared at her with wide eyes.

        ‘Are you honestly going to ignore the fact that Radella Lestrange totally undermined you in that conversation? Since when do you not get pissed off when people make comments like that?’

        ‘I thought I was the one to undermine her. And since when is it up to you to decide when I should pick a fight with some pretentious bitch at a party, anyway?’ Lily snapped, then instantly apologised.

        ‘Sorry, Lil,’ James said as well. ‘It just gets under my skin.’

        ‘I know,’ she sighed, putting a hand on his arm. ‘But let’s not worry about it. To tell you the truth, I’m more annoyed about McLaggen forgetting my name.’

        It was a lie, but she wanted to change the subject, and could at least stand a rant about McLaggen.

        ‘Honestly, I can’t stand that bloke,’ James muttered, taking the bait, and craning his neck to search the room for the offending man. ‘He’s such a bastard.’

        ‘I know,’ she said, again. ‘Listen, let’s just try and find some of our friends. Sirius must be around here somewhere. It’s not like him to miss a party.’

        ‘Ellie won’t’ve invited him.’

        ‘Why? They’ve invited _everyone_ else.’ The room filled with what Lily expected was every person Ellie and Tiberius could have ever collectively met. It seemed impossible that two people could have so many friends. It didn’t make sense that Sirius Black, whom Ellie had been in a number of classes with at school could have found his name struck from the guest list.

        ‘Not that I think Ellie had a great deal to do with the guest list, but when have you ever seen the pair of in a room together without getting into an argument?’

        ‘I can’t imagine she gets along very well with many of these people either.’

        James was silent for a moment. Lily could feel the tension in his hand which was still entwined with hers. She gave it a squeeze that was meant to be comforting, but instead he let out one of those funny laughing scoffs that he did when he was annoyed.

        ‘I mean is he really that thick that he doesn’t know your name?’ James hissed, as they headed for a couple of empty seats on the other side of the room. ‘You were in the bloody Slug Club together.’

        ‘James, I slagged off half those parties, you know. And the ones I _did_ attend, I spent the entire time hiding around corners and tossing back firewhisky… Or hiding around corners and snogging _you_ , in my later years.’

        James smiled, and leant down to press a kiss to Lily’s lips. Lily had been about to suggest they go and find a corner to snog behind that very moment when a song by The Weird Sisters - a new wizarding rock band - started to blare, and Lily grabbed James by the hand. Despite himself, James laughed as Lily began shimmying her hips and waving her arms in time with the music.

        ‘Dance with me,’ Lily said, grinning up at James.

        He smiled crookedly, bright hazel eyes glinting behind his glasses, but remained still.

        ‘Can’t we just go and find a corner to snog in? You hate dancing with me.’

        ‘Just don’t stomp on my feet and you’ll be fine.’

        ‘I don’t _stomp_.’

        ‘Have you ever _seen_ you and Sirius dance together? You look like circus elephants. Except Sirius somehow still looks alright.’

        ‘Oh, I see how it is,’ he said, stepping closer to her and gripping her by the waist. Lily’s stomach fluttered.

        ‘I should’ve just brought him as my date tonight,’ Lily teased.

        ‘Ellie wouldn’t have let you through the door. And besides, I thought _you_ were _my_ date.’

        His face was very close to hers now, leaning down and staring at her so that she could see the flecks of amber which surrounded his pupils. She was about to stretch up to press her lips against his jaw when a jostle from a nearby dancer sent her stumbling into James’ chest. She looked up into his face, rubbing her chin, and saw him glare over the top of her head.

        ‘Oof,’ McLaggen grunted, then waved a hand in apology. ‘Sorry, Daisy.’

        Lily turned and glared as the man laughed and hurried off through the crowd.

        ‘Bloody thick-headed tossing idiot,’ James muttered.

        ‘He is thick,’ another Scottish voice said behind them.

        Lily whipped around. Ellie was back, drink in hand.

        ‘Ellie! Sorry -’

        ‘No need,’ she said casually, and with a flick of her hand towards an oak bar which stood a few metres to their left, she summoned two drinks which zoomed straight into Lily and James’ hands. ‘Sorry about him. Tossing idiot, you’re right. Only name he bothers to remember is his own. And the precious dog’s. At least he’s never confused you with _it_.’ She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her whisky.

        Lily wasn’t really sure how to respond without seeming rude. But thankfully, James was familiar with Ellie’s particular brand of humour. He laughed.

        ‘I bet you’re glad we’ve arrived, then. Finally someone else to talk to that doesn’t have their lips attached to his arse.’

        ‘Very. I don’t even know half the people here. All his friends. Said we had to invite them so that the place didn't look empty only filled up with people I knew.’

        James snorted. Lily tried not to.

        ‘Well, now, that’s not very nice,’ he said.

        Lily wasn’t sure what James and Ellie spoke about when they were alone, but she had never heard Ellie speak about her relationship with Tiberius this candidly before. If she thought about it, she hadn’t really heard her speak about him at all, except in passing. It seemed, perhaps, that she avoided discussion about him, and was only opening up now, because she had had more than a few drinks. Another thing Lily was witnessing for the first time.

        ‘It is, but he’s sort of right. Without you here, there’s only a few girls from school - and they’ve been stationed by the bar for the past hour anyway - the rest are just people from training.’

        ‘I could’ve invited some of the lads,’ James said. ‘Remus, Sirius.’

        ‘He wouldna have wanted to come to this,’ Elspeth scoffed. ‘Trust me.’

        ‘Ah well,’ James said. ‘How are you, anyway? What’s the craic?’

        ‘Aye, well, work’s keeping me busy. The hours are terrible. But I like the work. Of course, Mac doesn’t think being a Healer is any proper work for a good upstanding lady.’

        ‘That’s hardly how I’d describe you,’ James joked.

        ‘You’ll have to tell Mac,’ she laughed, then groaned. ‘Enough about him. Did you see the Kestrels play the Prides last week?’

        Lily hadn’t - she and James had been training for the Order - but she’d read the score to James from the newspaper, while they lounged around his bedroom the next morning. The Arrows had won.

        ‘Slaughtered them,’ Ellie said, hazel eyes glowing.

        As expected, James rose to the jibe. The Irish and Scottish Quidditch teams had long been rivals, and the two young fans each staunchly defended their home country’s team. Personally, Lily didn’t much care. Her favourite team was the Holyhead Harpies.

        ‘The only reason your precious Prides won because the referee ignored Armstrong’s _obvious_ cobbing tendency.’

        ‘Rubbish! You’re blaming it on Armstrong using his elbows every now and again?’

        ‘The reason the Prides beat the Kestrels is because Carmody is the worst Keeper the Kestrels have had in the last decade,’ Lily said.

        ‘Better than Yates,’ James said to her.

        ‘Yates plays for the Harpies! We’re talking about _your_ ridiculous rivalry!’

        ‘So? Carmody is better than Yates. Jones carries that team.’

        ‘Are you kidding? They’ve won all their games this season!’

        ‘James is right,’ Ellie said. ‘Carmody is a better Keeper than Yates. The Harpies fly as a better team though.’

        Lily linked her arm with Ellie’s and gave James a smug smile. She had been about to inform James that he had lost the argument when a round of cheers broke out around the room.

        ‘Speech!’ someone yelled.

        The group clapped and cheered, and Tiberius McLaggen’s wavy blond head appeared over the crowd, as he climbed up a few steps of the grand staircase.

        ‘Can we get Elspeth up the front here, please! We’re going to make a toast!’

        The girl in question gave a sigh and smiled grimly at her two friends.

        ‘Hostess duties,’ she said resignedly. Smoothing her dress, she pushed her way through the crowd and joined Tiberius on the staircase, allowing herself to be tucked into his side.

        ‘Well, thank you all for being here to celebrate the New Year with us! Let’s make a toast to a wonderful year coming up!’ Tiberius said, raising his glass.

        Cheers broke out once more, along with shouts of ‘Happy New Year!’ before Tiberius yelled for quiet once more. A quiet settled over the group surrounding the pair, before Tiberius’ head disappeared below the line of heads. People began to scream. Lily immediately jumped to her feet, to see Tiberius down on one knee, while Ellie stood before him, staring wide eyed.

        ‘Oh my God. James,’ she said, tugging on his arm.

        ‘Fuck,’ James muttered, then, confusingly, began to start forward. Lily grabbed his arm and yanked him back to her side.

        ‘What are you doing?’ she bit.

        ‘I - I -’

        ‘Stay put,’ she hissed.

        Tiberius had clasped both of Ellie’s hands in his own now, and was holding them before him.

        ‘Elspeth,’ Tiberius said, ‘I think now is right time to ask you this. I love you, and I want you by my side. Will you marry me?’

        The crowd started cheering again, and Ellie looked out over them, eyes searching and then settling in her and James’ direction, before she promptly crumpled to the floor.

* * *

 

Elspeth awoke to see about six faces staring down at her from above, crowding her vision.

        ‘Give her some space,’ Mac said, pushing away the spectators with one muscled arm. The other was crooked around her neck, holding her head off the floor. She felt sick. She wished it was James looking after her now. He had always been the one to protect her when they were children, when her parents had died, whenever her older brothers teased her, whenever she received unwanted male attention. But why couldn’t he have stopped Mac…? She had always felt like the protector. Like a fierce lion, even though the badger had been her house’s sigil, when she had fussed over his many injuries, honing her skills with his annoyingly consistent array of injuries. She had no idea how he could have gotten injuries like that playing mere pranks, but she had healed them without questions. Only scolding. Now, the one time she had shown weakness, he wasn’t the one to help. No. It was her boyfriend. No. No… her fiancee?

        ‘Are you alright, darling?’ Mac asked, eyebrows raised in a way that told her he expected an affirmative answer.

        ‘Yes,’ she said, though she felt sick to her stomach. ‘Yes, I’m fine.’

        He helped her to her feet, and gestured for the crowd to move back a few steps.

        ‘Just surprised!’ she said, forcing a cheery smile onto her face.

        The crowd of Mac’s friends seemed to sigh in relief, nodding amongst themselves. She hated herself for appearing so weak.

        ‘So, darling,’ Mac said, pulling her to his side and looking down at her. ‘What do you say?’

        She looked out, over the crowd once more, and locked eyes with James, who stared back at her, face unreadable. Lily was at his side, clutching anxiously at his arm, his anchor. Why couldn’t she have someone she truly love d? To understand the poetic beauty of the word love itself. To understand the way it should roll lightly off the tongue and float happily through the heart. It wasn’t supposed to be weighty, to thud like a lie in the pit of your stomach, the way it did when she said it to Mac. S he tried to push down the feeling of jealousy that burned in her chest.

        ‘Yes.’

Even as all Mac’s friends gathered around them to offer their congratulations, Elspeth had her eyes scanning the room for James while she said murmured prudent ‘thank you’s’ and held her hand out to display the enormous blue stone which Mac had managed to secure to her ring finger, now he was certain she wasn’t about to faint again. Elspeth wasn’t so sure, herself, especially as the crowd began to disperse, and Lily and James approached.

        ‘Congratulations,’ Lily said, when they arrived in front of them. She was wearing a smile which looked strained. It didn't _quite_ reach her green eyes.

        ‘We’re very happy,’ Mac said from beside her.

        ‘That was certainly… a surprise,’ James said tightly, draining the rest of his glass.

        ‘Wasn’t it?’ Ellie said breathlessly, glancing away quickly. She could certainly agree with that.

        ‘Congratulations,’ James said, though the way he said, with his jaw clenched so tightly, made it sound more like a question than a statement.

        ‘Thank you,’ Ellie said, with a smile. She felt like crying, and she couldn’t stand to have the eyes of the man who had always seemed like just an extra brother look on her with such disappointment. She was wishing for a way out of the conversation when she spotted Dorcas Meadowes striding through the room, and snagged her by the arm as she hurried past. The tall, dark-skinned girl looked startled at being grabbed so suddenly, and spun to face the group, an alarmed look on her face.

        ‘Look!’ she said, not exactly subtly - James hadn’t bought her ruse either, judging by his raised eyebrows, but she stuck with her plan anyway. ‘It’s Dorcas Meadowes. Let me introduce you.’

        ‘Lily, James,’ Dorcas said, just as Elspeth had been about to. She had no idea how Lily and James knew Dorcas - she had been years ahead of them at school, and Elspeth only knew her because she was something of a regular at St. Mungo’s, where she was training - but she’d take the extra distraction.

        ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you here,’ Dorcas continued, twisting a finger around a springy curl of honey coloured hair.

        ‘Neither were we,’ James said.

        ‘How do you know Dorcas?’ Elspeth asked.

        ‘I’d love to tell you the story, but it’ll have to be another time,’ Dorcas said. ‘I’m on my way out, sorry. I’ve just been called into work.’

        Though Dorcas never mentioned what she’d been called in for, Lily looked concerned.

        ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I hope everything’s okay.’

        Dorcas nodded in a way that gave Elspeth the feeling that she hoped so too, but she wasn’t so sure. She pulled out of Elspeth’s grasp - she hadn’t realised she was still holding onto her arm - and stepped away.

        ‘Congratulations, again,’  Dorcas waved.

        Elspeth watched as her change of subject disappeared, and James and Lily stared after her as well. After a moment, Mac spoke.

        ‘How about a drink?’

        Nobody, it appeared, needed to be asked twice to head towards the bar.

* * *

 

        It was nearly 3 o’clock, by the time Lily and James disapparated home, stumbling slightly as they landed in Lily’s quiet cul-de-sac. Lily’s ears still rang with the noise of the party, which had turned from something she had been looking forward to all week, into something to be endured. Frankly, it was a miracle they had made it past midnight - a fact probably only thanks only to the seemingly endless supply of firewhisky that seemed to stock McLaggen’s bar. Lily and James both over indulged, and she had the distinct feeling they wouldn’t be feeling their best come morning.

        All she wanted now was to get into bed, plant a pillow firmly over her head, and go to sleep. But those hopes were dashed when she heard a loud shout call her name.

        ‘Lily!’ the voice called again.

        James had stepped in front of her, still alert enough to sense there might be danger, and Lily peered from behind his back down the dark street. A second later, Dorcas Meadowes was illuminated as she passed under a streetlight, running towards them.

        ‘Go back!’ she yelled, ‘James, get her away!’

        She had no idea what the young Auror and Order member was doing, running down her street, but as she looked down the street, she noticed a more people at the end of the street, swarming outside one of the houses - her house. Healers in pale green robes were standing in a small group on the front lawn, looking helpless, while Aurors and Order members alike were staring skyward, where the Dark Mark glowed green.


	3. A Different Kind of Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by H.E. Winter  
> Beta'd by Davan J

_**January 1979** _

 

            ‘I’m so sorry for your loss.’

            ‘It was a lovely service.’

            ‘If there’s anything you need, just say the word.’

            ‘Your mother was a lovely lady.’

            Lily had shaken hundreds of hands, said hundreds of thank yous, tried and sometimes failed to hold back tears a hundred times as each person passed, tried to twist her grimace into a grateful smile when they offered their condolences. But she couldn’t do it much longer. She knew she looked like shit. Her eyes stung, her hair hung limp, and she looked tired – felt tired. James, gripping her hand beside her, looked much the same. He’d been awake with her each night since it happened. Petunia, on her other side, had hardly looked her way. Her long neck was tense as she stared down her nose. Her sister’s pale eyes were watery, but Lily had not seen a single tear fall from them. At least not in her presence.

 

Lily had endured the wake, the funeral service, the burial, and now the gathering afterwards, with tea and coffee and biscuits and more conversation about her mother than she really felt like. Soon, the room had emptied. It was growing dark, and only a few people remained. As the last of her family left the Evans house, Petunia followed them out the front door without a word. Lily pushed herself out of her chair, ignoring James’ protests, and followed her sister out the door, slamming it behind her.

            ‘Petunia!’ she called, running after the slim figure which was disappearing into the falling snow. ‘Wait!’ she yelled again, grabbing her sister by the arm as she slowed to a halt. ‘You weren’t even going to say goodbye?’

            ‘Goodbye,’ the older girl bit. ‘Vernon’s waiting for me in the car.’

            ‘For God’s sake, Tuney -’

            ‘Oh, stop _calling_ me that! We’re not 8 any more - just grow up!’ she said, her voice growing shrill. Her nostrils flared with each short breath she let out. After a moment, she seemed to compose herself, and she looked over at Lily dangerously. ‘God knows you’ll have to now, without Mother here to baby you,’ she bit out.

            ‘Don’t be such a cold bitch!’ Lily hissed, before she could help herself.

            ‘It was your fault any of this ever happened!’ Petunia was shrieking now.‘Ever since you went away to that ridiculous school and brought all your problems back with you!’

            ‘I can’t _help_ any of this, Petunia!’ Lily said.

            ‘Yes you could have. The _one thing_ you could have been good for - protecting mother and father - and you couldn’t even do that.’

            A hot feeling was burning through Lily. Not anger, not anymore - the words stung too much - but a terrible, burning guilt that made her stomach churn and her throat constrict. She couldn’t find the right words to say that might change Petunia’s mind.

            ‘How was I supposed to stop Dad’s heart attack?’ she said defensively.

            Petunia scoffed. ‘I don’t want to see or hear from you again, Lily, after all this this is done,’ she said.

            Lily tried to keep her lip from trembling.

            ‘You said that after your wedding,’ Lily said desperately, ‘and here we are together again.’

            ‘ _At our mother_ _’_ _s funeral_. I don’t have any reason to see you anymore. We’ll be better off without each other.’

            Lily tried to keep tears from flooding her eyes, at least while Petunia was facing her. Her sister didn’t seem to have a trace of emotion on her face. She looked haughty as ever, staring down her nose at her younger sister. Lily wanted to disagree - wanted to tell her that despite it all, they needed each other.

            ‘Fine,’ Lily said instead, trying to match her sister’s expression. ‘I don’t want to see you either.’

            Petunia’s face didn’t change at all. She just drew her coat closer around her, and turned into the snow.

 

* * *

 

 

Elspeth was so tired she could barely get dressed, as stood by her locker in the staff room at St. Mungo’s. Though she was still a Healer in Training, she had made it through their latest set of exams last week, and been rewarded with a locker. Now she didn’t have to wrestle her robes on and off in the cramped bathroom cubicles. For that, at least, she was thankful, but there hadn’t been much else to put a smile on her face, the last few days.

            Today, especially, had been tough. She had been awake at 4 o’clock for work, had stolen away during her lunch break to get to Lily’s mother’s funeral, then come straight back for another six hours work. Now, finally, she could go home. But she wasn’t so sure of how glad she felt about that either.

            She buttoned up her blouse slowly, fingers tired after the day's’ work, and then glanced down at her bare hands. She reached into the pocket of her bag for her engagement ring, which she had taken off before her shift this morning - and left off during the funeral, to avoid any unwanted attention - and found the compartment empty.

            For a second, she thought it might have been gone, and panicked, heart thudding in her chest. What would Mac say when she told him she’d lost it?

            ‘Shit,’ she muttered, and patted down the pockets on her jeans, feeling for bumps. Nothing. She rummaged through the shelves of her locker, hoping that behind every stack of notes she shifted would be Mac’s ring. Still nothing. Desperately, now, she took her bag and overturned it onto the nearest surface. With a clink, the jewelled band bounced onto the table, and Elspeth grabbed for it.

            ‘Thank _Merlin_ for that,’ she said, just as the door to the staff room swung open, and Ananda Arihanda, her mentor, strolled in.

            ‘Thank Merlin for what?’ said the pretty witch. She was already unbuttoning her work robes, and looked tired after the busy day in the ward.

            ‘Thought my ring was missing,’ Elspeth explained, ‘It’s so beautiful, I couldn’t bear to lose it.’

            Truthfully, the style wasn't really to her taste, but since some of her friends from training had been at the party a few days ago, the news had spread amongst her training group, and all they could talk about was the upcoming wedding. Elspeth felt obliged to indulge them in their excitement, but felt none herself. She kept telling herself that she would grow to become excited, that maybe she was still in shock from the proposal, but it had been three days now, and she had stayed up each night reminding herself of why this was a _good_ thing, why this was important. Still, every time she saw the sparkle of the ring on her finger, all she could think of was how much it would have cost, and she pushed down the sick feeling that rose in her throat.

            It had been three days, she realised, and she hadn’t told her mother.

            ‘I’ve got to go,’ she said to Ananda, as she swept all her things back into her bag. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

            ‘Tomorrow’s your day off. Go home and relax.’

            ‘I don’t need a day off. Goodnight Ananda.’

 

She only had to travel one floor down to reach her destination. Not the doors which led from the reception onto the street outside, but the Janus Thickey Ward, on the fourth floor of the hospital. As usual, the doors to the Ward were kept under lock and key, and she had to stop at a small desk area by the entrance to give her name.

            ‘Elspeth MacClare, here to see Tara MacClare.’

            ‘Any gifts to be checked?’ asked the Mediwitch, scarcely bothering to look up from her copy of Witch Weekly.

            ‘Not today.’

            As simply as that, the Mediwitch waved her hand towards the door, which swung open. Elspeth followed the familiar path to the end of the Ward, and around a curtain which was perpetually pulled across, shielding the cubicle beyond from view. Inside, a woman with long greying hair and a small frame lay on her cot, facing the wall.

            ‘Ma,’ Elspeth breathed, putting a hand on the woman’s arm. She turned, and looked up at her daughter, then turned back towards the wall. Elspeth took this as her permission to lay down behind her, wrapping an arm around her middle, and pressing her face into her mother’s back.

            ‘I - I’m sorry I haven’t been to visit since Christmas,’ she began, even though Christmas had only been two weeks ago, and she was fairly sure her mother had no idea what day it was. ‘I’ve been… A lot of things have been happening.’

            She was met with silence, which was not unusual. Tara MacClare hadn’t spoken in four years. Not since the attack which had left her permanently confined to the Spell Damage floor of St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

            ‘I’m getting married,’ she continued, reaching to grasp her mother’s hand, ‘to a very well-known wizard. He’s very well off.’

            More silence.

            ‘I wish Da were still here, and that you were home, and that we were all still together. But you don’t have to worry about me now -’ she coughed, trying to hide the wobble in her voice ‘- Tiberius earns a lot of gold, and once I pass my Healer’s exams, I’ll be earning plenty as well. Maybe I can buy back the house and we can all live there again. Me, and you, Angus, Cameron, and Hugh. I can look after you. But… in the meantime, I’ll be safe.’ She pressed her face into her mother’s back, trying to get rid of the burning feeling behind her eyes. Elspeth MacClare was not one for tears. ‘I’ll be looked after.’

            Tara MacClare squeezed her daughter’s hand.

            If the accident had never happened, if her father hadn’t died, if her brother’s hadn’t had to sell the family farm, and send her away to live with their cousins, if her mother could only _speak_ , and tell her that this was all wrong, Elspeth would not be marrying Tiberius McLaggen, but as things stood, as she was all alone in the world, Elspeth would go ‘home’, and pretend she was in love.

 

* * *

 

Lily wished there were a digital clock in the room, one where you could still see the numbers glowing in the dark. She liked that glow, found it comforting, reminded her of the digital clock her father used to smash his fist down upon when the alarm went off for work, and roll over to wrap his arm around his wife. Instead, she fumbled for her wand on the nightstand, rolled onto her side, away from James, and pointed it at her wrist.

            ‘Lumos,’ she whispered, illuminating the golden face of her watch. Two o’clock. With a sigh, she pushed herself up, and swung her legs over the side of the bed, she pulled the blanket with her - James hated sleeping with anything covering him - and gathered it around her. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, and shuffled out of the room, shrouded in the bedclothes.

            This had become her nightly ritual. After a few hours trying to fall asleep in the room she was temporarily sharing with James, she would make sure he was asleep, and pad out into the sitting room, curl up on the sofa, and sit in the dark thinking. Thinking about what her mother’s last moments must have been like, all the things she could have done to save her, if only she hadn’t been at that stupid party, of what she was going to do now.

            She hadn’t been back to the house. After her conversation with her sister, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to set foot inside. She had stood outside in the growing darkness, snow falling all around her, just staring up at the house, until James had come looking for her. As soon as he had reached her, an involuntary whimper escaped her lips.

            ‘Hey,’ James soothed, curling an arm around her shoulders and gathering her in. She let him hold her for a minute, before she shrugged out of his grasp.

            ‘I’m fine,’ Lily said in a clipped tone.

            ‘Sorry,’ she said, then her lip quivered, ‘I just – I just can’t do it, James. I can’t go back in there. Everything’s ruined.’ The redhead stared desperately up at the lifeless house in front of them. Curtains drawn, flowerbeds blanketed in snow, driveway empty. She had sold her mother’s old car to pay for her funeral. There hadn’t been any savings left in her parents’ bank account after her father had died the year earlier.

            ‘You don’t have to,’ James said. ‘If you don’t feel like you can be in there, then you don’t have to.’

            ‘I know, but it’s not as though I have anywhere else to go.’

            ‘Well…’

            ‘Don’t say it just because I’m upset.’

            ‘Alright.’

            ‘You know how I feel about it.’

            ‘I know.’

            ‘I’m not ready to move in with you.’

            ‘Alright, Lily.’

            ‘You don’t have your own place,’ Lily said. She knew she sounded mean - all she had meant to point out was that there wasn’t enough room for her long-term while James and Sirius were sharing a flat - but she couldn’t help the words escaping her lips.

            ‘I know…’ James said, calmly. ‘But you could at least stay tonight.’

            ‘I don’t want to be alone,’ she admitted.

            ‘I know.’

            Lily felt his fingers slipping between her own. She glanced down at their entwined hands.

            ‘Wait,’ she said, before he could twist them into an apparition. ‘I’ll have to go in and get some stuff.’

            ‘I’ll go,’ he said. ‘I’ll pack you a bag. I’ll tell everyone left to clear out, and we’ll just go.’

            He strode up the driveway wand in hand, and unlocked the front door with a quiet ‘Alohomora’.

            How easily it swung open. One simple spell. Lily could have prevented that. Now he’d be stepping over bloodstained carpet, broken glass, the overturned coffee table and Christmas tree. Her mother had always put it up far too early. Up the stairs where the bedrooms had been ransacked. All things Lily could have prevented. But she hadn’t.

            She had sat on the edge of the gutter and waited while James gathered her things. About five minutes later, she heard footsteps on the driveway. She turned to see James carrying an overnight bag in each hand. The things he did for her.

            By his place, he had meant the flat that he and Sirius shared above Diagon Alley, and it wasn’t long after Lily had plonked herself down on the sofa that the homeowner himself found her there.

            Her heart had stopped for just a moment, when she heard the door rattle. But the door handle glowed blue, signifying that it wasn’t a stranger trying to break past the wards, and the door cracked open, the light from outside revealing Sirius’ face. His muscular frame blocked out the light for a moment as he stepped inside, and then the whole room lit up as he cast a quiet ‘ _Lumos_ ’.

            ‘Hey, Lil,’ he said, when he saw her. He sounded tired. She supposed he would be after working all night. ‘Why are you sitting in the dark?’

            She shrugged. ‘I only just came out.’

            ‘Can’t sleep?’ Sirius guessed.

            Lily’s throat felt tight, as though something was pressing on it. She let out a cough, which turned into a sob. Sirius was beside her in an instant, pushing her blankets aside.

            ‘Budge up,’ he said, and sat down right beside her, curling an arm around her shoulders. He smelt of leather and cigarettes, and somehow _not_ like the firewhisky he’d been pouring for patrons of the Leaky Cauldron all night. Her father had always smelled faintly of cigarettes too, she remembered, and sobbed harder.

            ‘Hey,’ he soothed, his hand moved up her neck and into her hair, and pushed her head gently onto his shoulder, before sliding his hand back down her arm.

            ‘It’s all my fault,’ Lily suddenly wailed.

            ‘Have you been up every night telling yourself that?’

            ‘Well, it’s true! How can I sleep easy knowing that she died because of me?’

            ‘She didn’t, Lil. It’s _not your fault_.’

            ‘It’s because I’m a mudblood!’

            ‘Don’t call yourself that!’ Sirius said angrily, grasping her by the shoulders. ‘Lily, your blood – it’s – it’s irrelevant. To anyone who matters, anyway. What happened to your mother shouldn’t have happened at all, but it’s not your fault. It’s all _theirs_. It’s all on the Death Eaters, and don’t tell yourself any differently.’

            ‘I know,’ she sniffed. ‘I do. I just can’t stop thinking and –’

            ‘Lily, you won’t sleep easy for a long time, I’m not going to lie to you. Merlin knows I didn’t after I left home. I thought - I thought after I ran away to James’ I’d get into bed and fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, but I didn’t. Not for weeks. But it’s only been three days. No matter the circumstance, it’s hard to get used to being without your parents. And you won’t until you get used to the idea that none of this was your fault.’

            ‘James doesn’t get it. He thinks he can give me a hug and make it all better.’

            ‘He doesn’t really know what to do, Lil.’

            ‘I know. And I feel like a terrible bitch, but, I just don’t feel like I can talk to him about it yet.’

            ‘Well, you can talk to me. You could talk to… Elspeth - she doesn’t have either of her parents around. Or what about Remus? He had a hard time when he lost his mum.’

            Lily let out a sudden sob once more.

            ‘This is so sad! All these kids without parents. All because of those fucking Death Eaters!’

            ‘That’s the spirit,’ Sirius said, pounding a fist down on the arm of the sofa. ‘Fuck them!’

            Lily gave a watery laugh and let her head fall back onto Sirius shoulder.

            ‘You don’t mind that I’m staying, do you? It’ll only be for a few more days.’

            ‘Course not,’ he said, ‘Just as long as James isn’t under the impression that you’re going to be here longer. You know I’ll have to deal with him moping around once you leave.’

 

* * *

 

Dorcas Meadowes was sat in her office cubicle surrounded by precariously balanced stacks of paperwork. She had not even been the one to find the body, not even the one to report the Dark Mark which had glowed over a suburban muggle street earlier that week, but here she was, reliving that horrible night over and over, as she documented the murder of Lily Evans’ mother.

            She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for the younger girl, to come home happy and silly after a party only to have her entire world shattered like that. Thankfully, the body had been covered before Lily was let in the house. Dorcas had been shocked how much the older woman looked like her daughter - same hair, same eyes, same fair skin and statuesque build. Or at least she assumed so. Mrs Evans was sprawled on the living room floor when she had been found dead.

            ‘Meadowes!’ a voice suddenly barked.

            She dropped her quill in surprise, knocking her ink bottle over the edge of the desk.

            ‘Meadowes,’ said the growling voice again, ‘what have I told you? Constant vigilance! You can’t go knocking things over every time I sneak up on you.’

            ‘Maybe if you _didn_ _’t_ sneak up on me…’ she hissed, spinning in her chair to find Alastor Moody already waving his wand at the spilt ink, vanishing the stain from the carpet. One thick eyebrow was raised, and his dark eyes were narrowed. He must have been at least 30, and handsome, she supposed, if you liked that rugged kind of thing. He had ruddy skin, as though he had spent his entire working in the sun, a grizzly mane of auburn hair that hung to his chin, a face which was all angles, his strong jaw coated in a short stubble.

            ‘Good practice,’ he growled. ‘Come on, with me.’

            ‘And _where_ exactly are we going?’ Dorcas asked, as she trotted after the Head Auror, who was stomping between rows of desks.

            ‘A meeting.’

            ‘About _what?_ ’

            ‘Something important.’

            ‘Is there a reason you’re always so purposefully vague?’ Dorcas huffed.

            ‘Got to maintain an air of mystery,’ Moody said, looking back at her, voice dripping with sarcasm.

            She was close enough to reach out and grip his coat to pull him out of the way of the desk corner he was about to walk into as he looked over his shoulder at her.

            ‘Constant vigilance,’ she warned.

            ‘Watch your tone, Meadowes,’ he growled, looking straight ahead.

            Dorcas tried to hide a smile as she continued to follow him through the Auror Office.

            ‘Now that I’ve saved you the embarrassment of tripping over a desk in front of the whole Department, will you tell me where we’re going?’ she asked.

            ‘A meeting. We’re forming a task force. Mainly DMLE employees, but a couple of Unspeakables from the Department of Mysteries - good at thinking outside the box.’

            ‘A task force for what?’

            ‘You’ll soon find out. We’re here.’

            They had arrived in a nondescript hallway, outside a door which had a plaque that read ‘Cleaning Supplies’ mounted to it.

            Moody turned the door handle, revealing a small, sparsely furnished room, where about six people sat around a table. They all looked up as Dorcas and Moody entered the room, the door snapping shut behind them. Dorcas’ immediately recognised a couple of people in the room - Connor McKinnon, a tall, curly haired blonde boy wearing a lot of denim, a DMLE worker, who winked at her as she pulled up a chair, and Benjy Fenwick, from the Auror office, tall, dark, and serious, nodded in Moody’s direction, then in hers. The next person she noticed was an imposing blonde woman with round tortoiseshell glasses and shrewd blue eyes. Dorcas had the feeling that if she let her mouth - which was set in a frown - curve into a smile, she would be very pretty. Sitting beside the blonde woman was a young Desi witch with thick curly hair, head bent over a notebook, already scribbling away despite the fact that the meeting clearly hadn’t begun. Across the table, were a witch and a wizard in midnight blue robes, who wore matching expressionless masks.

            ‘Jin Bai and Eoin O’Hanlon, from the Department of Mysteries,’ Moody said, gesturing towards the two robed people. ‘Amelia Bones,’ he nodded towards the blonde woman, ‘Improper Use of Magic, and junior seat in the Wizengamot. And Cecily Nott is an intern in the Wizengamot Administration Service.’ The petite curly haired witch looked up at the mention of her name and smiled nervously at Dorcas. ‘The rest you know. Everyone in this room has been selected to be a part of this task force, and together, we’re going to infiltrate the Death Eater ranks.’

 

**Chapter Two: A Different Kind of Party**

_**January 1979** _

* * *

'I'm so sorry for your loss.'

'It was a lovely service.'

'If there's anything you need, just say the word.'

'Your mother was a lovely lady.'

Lily had shaken hundreds of hands, said hundreds of thank yous, tried and sometimes failed to hold back tears a hundred times as each person passed, tried to twist her grimace into a grateful smile when they offered their condolences. But she couldn't do it much longer. She knew she looked like shit. Her eyes stung, her hair hung limp, and she looked tired – felt tired. James, gripping her hand beside her, looked much the same. He'd been awake with her each night since it happened. Petunia, on her other side, had hardly looked her way. Her long neck was tense as she stared down her nose. Her sister's pale eyes were watery, but Lily had not seen a single tear fall from them. At least not in her presence.

Lily had endured the wake, the funeral service, the burial, and now the gathering afterwards, with tea and coffee and biscuits and more conversation about her mother than she really felt like. Soon, the room had emptied. It was growing dark, and only a few people remained. As the last of her family left the Evans house, Petunia followed them out the front door without a word. Lily pushed herself out of her chair, ignoring James' protests, and followed her sister out the door, slamming it behind her.

'Petunia!' she called, running after the slim figure which was disappearing into the falling snow. 'Wait!' she yelled again, grabbing her sister by the arm as she slowed to a halt. 'You weren't even going to say goodbye?'

'Goodbye,' the older girl bit. 'Vernon's waiting for me in the car.'

'For God's sake, Tuney -'

'Oh, stop  _calling_  me that! We're not 8 any more - just grow up!' she said, her voice growing shrill. Her nostrils flared with each short breath she let out. After a moment, she seemed to compose herself, and she looked over at Lily dangerously. 'God knows you'll have to now, without Mother here to baby you,' she bit out.

'Don't be such a cold bitch!' Lily hissed, before she could help herself.

'It was your fault any of this ever happened!' Petunia was shrieking now. 'Ever since you went away to that ridiculous school and brought all your problems back with you!'

'I can't  _help_  any of this, Petunia!' Lily said.

'Yes you could have. The  _one thing_  you could have been good for - protecting mother and father - and you couldn't even do that.'

A hot feeling was burning through Lily. Not anger, not anymore - the words stung too much - but a terrible, burning guilt that made her stomach churn and her throat constrict. She couldn't find the right words to say that might change Petunia's mind.

'How was I supposed to stop Dad's heart attack?' she said defensively.

Petunia scoffed. 'I don't want to see or hear from you again, Lily, after all this this is done,' she said.

Lily tried to keep her lip from trembling.

'You said that after your wedding,' Lily said desperately, 'and here we are together again.'

' _At our mother_ _'s funeral_. I don't have any reason to see you anymore. We'll be better off without each other.'

Lily tried to keep tears from flooding her eyes, at least while Petunia was facing her. Her sister didn't seem to have a trace of emotion on her face. She looked haughty as ever, staring down her nose at her younger sister. Lily wanted to disagree - wanted to tell her that despite it all, they needed each other.

'Fine,' Lily said instead, trying to match her sister's expression. 'I don't want to see you either.'

Petunia's face didn't change at all. She just drew her coat closer around her, and turned into the snow.

* * *

Elspeth was so tired she could barely get dressed, as stood by her locker in the staff room at St. Mungo's. Though she was still a Healer in Training, she had made it through their latest set of exams last week, and been rewarded with a locker. Now she didn't have to wrestle her robes on and off in the cramped bathroom cubicles. For that, at least, she was thankful, but there hadn't been much else to put a smile on her face, the last few days.

Today, especially, had been tough. She had been awake at 4 o'clock for work, had stolen away during her lunch break to get to Lily's mother's funeral, then come straight back for another six hours work. Now, finally, she could go home. But she wasn't so sure of how glad she felt about that either.

She buttoned up her blouse slowly, fingers tired after the day's' work, and then glanced down at her bare hands. She reached into the pocket of her bag for her engagement ring, which she had taken off before her shift this morning - and left off during the funeral, to avoid any unwanted attention - and found the compartment empty.

For a second, she thought it might have been gone, and panicked, heart thudding in her chest. What would Mac say when she told him she'd lost it?

'Shit,' she muttered, and patted down the pockets on her jeans, feeling for bumps. Nothing. She rummaged through the shelves of her locker, hoping that behind every stack of notes she shifted would be Mac's ring. Still nothing. Desperately, now, she took her bag and overturned it onto the nearest surface. With a clink, the jewelled band bounced onto the table, and Elspeth grabbed for it.

'Thank  _Merlin_  for that,' she said, just as the door to the staff room swung open, and Ananda Arihanda, her mentor, strolled in.

'Thank Merlin for what?' said the pretty witch. She was already unbuttoning her work robes, and looked tired after the busy day in the ward.

'Thought my ring was missing,' Elspeth explained, 'It's so beautiful, I couldn't bear to lose it.'

Truthfully, the style wasn't really to her taste, but since some of her friends from training had been at the party a few days ago, the news had spread amongst her training group, and all they could talk about was the upcoming wedding. Elspeth felt obliged to indulge them in their excitement, but felt none herself. She kept telling herself that she would grow to become excited, that maybe she was still in shock from the proposal, but it had been three days now, and she had stayed up each night reminding herself of why this was a  _good_  thing, why this was important. Still, every time she saw the sparkle of the ring on her finger, all she could think of was how much it would have cost, and she pushed down the sick feeling that rose in her throat.

It had been three days, she realised, and she hadn't told her mother.

'I've got to go,' she said to Ananda, as she swept all her things back into her bag. 'I'll see you tomorrow.'

'Tomorrow's your day off. Go home and relax.'

'I don't need a day off. Goodnight Ananda.'

She only had to travel one floor down to reach her destination. Not the doors which led from the reception onto the street outside, but the Janus Thickey Ward, on the fourth floor of the hospital. As usual, the doors to the Ward were kept under lock and key, and she had to stop at a small desk area by the entrance to give her name.

'Elspeth MacClare, here to see Tara MacClare.'

'Any gifts to be checked?' asked the Mediwitch, scarcely bothering to look up from her copy of Witch Weekly.

'Not today.'

As simply as that, the Mediwitch waved her hand towards the door, which swung open. Elspeth followed the familiar path to the end of the Ward, and around a curtain which was perpetually pulled across, shielding the cubicle beyond from view. Inside, a woman with long greying hair and a small frame lay on her cot, facing the wall.

'Ma,' Elspeth breathed, putting a hand on the woman's arm. She turned, and looked up at her daughter, then turned back towards the wall. Elspeth took this as her permission to lay down behind her, wrapping an arm around her middle, and pressing her face into her mother's back.

'I - I'm sorry I haven't been to visit since Christmas,' she began, even though Christmas had only been two weeks ago, and she was fairly sure her mother had no idea what day it was. 'I've been… A lot of things have been happening.'

She was met with silence, which was not unusual. Tara MacClare hadn't spoken in four years. Not since the attack which had left her permanently confined to the Spell Damage floor of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

'I'm getting married,' she continued, reaching to grasp her mother's hand, 'to a very well-known wizard. He's very well off.'

More silence.

'I wish Da were still here, and that you were home, and that we were all still together. But you don't have to worry about me now -' she coughed, trying to hide the wobble in her voice '- Tiberius earns a lot of gold, and once I pass my Healer's exams, I'll be earning plenty as well. Maybe I can buy back the house and we can all live there again. Me, and you, Angus, Cameron, and Hugh. I can look after you. But… in the meantime, I'll be safe.' She pressed her face into her mother's back, trying to get rid of the burning feeling behind her eyes. Elspeth MacClare was not one for tears. 'I'll be looked after.'

Tara MacClare squeezed her daughter's hand.

If the accident had never happened, if her father hadn't died, if her brother's hadn't had to sell the family farm, and send her away to live with their cousins, if her mother could only  _speak_ , and tell her that this was all wrong, Elspeth would not be marrying Tiberius McLaggen, but as things stood, as she was all alone in the world, Elspeth would go 'home', and pretend she was in love.

* * *

Lily wished there were a digital clock in the room, one where you could still see the numbers glowing in the dark. She liked that glow, found it comforting, reminded her of the digital clock her father used to smash his fist down upon when the alarm went off for work, and roll over to wrap his arm around his wife. Instead, she fumbled for her wand on the nightstand, rolled onto her side, away from James, and pointed it at her wrist.

'Lumos,' she whispered, illuminating the golden face of her watch. Two o'clock. With a sigh, she pushed herself up, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She pulled the blanket with her - James hated sleeping with anything covering him - and gathered it around her. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, and shuffled out of the room, shrouded in the bedclothes.

This had become her nightly ritual. After a few hours trying to fall asleep in the room she was temporarily sharing with James, she would make sure he was asleep, and pad out into the sitting room, curl up on the sofa, and sit in the dark thinking. Thinking about what her mother's last moments must have been like, all the things she could have done to save her, if only she hadn't been at that stupid party, of what she was going to do now.

She hadn't been back to the house. After her conversation with her sister, she hadn't been able to bring herself to set foot inside. She had stood outside in the growing darkness, snow falling all around her, just staring up at the house, until James had come looking for her. As soon as he had reached her, an involuntary whimper escaped her lips.

'Hey,' James soothed, curling an arm around her shoulders and gathering her in. She let him hold her for a minute, before she shrugged out of his grasp.

'I'm fine,' Lily said in a clipped tone.

'Sorry,' she said, then her lip quivered, 'I just – I just can't do it, James. I can't go back in there. Everything's ruined.' The redhead stared desperately up at the lifeless house in front of them. Curtains drawn, flowerbeds blanketed in snow, driveway empty. She had sold her mother's old car to pay for her funeral. There hadn't been any savings left in her parents' bank account after her father had died the year earlier.

'You don't have to,' James said. 'If you don't feel like you can be in there, then you don't have to.'

'I know, but it's not as though I have anywhere else to go.'

'Well…'

'Don't say it just because I'm upset.'

'Alright.'

'You know how I feel about it.'

'I know.'

'I'm not ready to move in with you.'

'Alright, Lily.'

'You don't have your own place,' Lily said. She knew she sounded mean - all she had meant to point out was that there wasn't enough room for her long-term while James and Sirius were sharing a flat - but she couldn't help the words escaping her lips.

'I know…' James said, calmly. 'But you could at least stay tonight.'

'I don't want to be alone,' she admitted.

'I know.'

Lily felt his fingers slipping between her own. She glanced down at their entwined hands.

'Wait,' she said, before he could twist them into an apparition. 'I'll have to go in and get some stuff.'

'I'll go,' he said. 'I'll pack you a bag. I'll tell everyone left to clear out, and we'll just go.'

He strode up the driveway wand in hand, and unlocked the front door with a quiet 'Alohomora'.

How easily it swung open. One simple spell. Lily could have prevented that. Now he'd be stepping over bloodstained carpet, broken glass, the overturned coffee table and Christmas tree. Her mother had always put it up far too early. Up the stairs where the bedrooms had been ransacked. All things Lily could have prevented. But she hadn't.

She had sat on the edge of the gutter and waited while James gathered her things. About five minutes later, she heard footsteps on the driveway. She turned to see James carrying an overnight bag in each hand. The things he did for her.

By his place, he had meant the flat that he and Sirius shared above Diagon Alley, and it wasn't long after Lily had plonked herself down on the sofa that the homeowner himself found her there.

Her heart had stopped for just a moment, when she heard the door rattle. But the door handle glowed blue, signifying that it wasn't a stranger trying to break past the wards, and the door cracked open, the light from outside revealing Sirius' face. His muscular frame blocked out the light for a moment as he stepped inside, and then the whole room lit up as he cast a quiet ' _Lumos_ '.

'Hey, Lil,' he said, when he saw her. He sounded tired. She supposed he would be after working all night. 'Why are you sitting in the dark?'

She shrugged. 'I only just came out.'

'Can't sleep?' Sirius guessed.

Lily's throat felt tight, as though something was pressing on it. She let out a cough, which turned into a sob. Sirius was beside her in an instant, pushing her blankets aside.

'Budge up,' he said, and sat down right beside her, curling an arm around her shoulders. He smelt of leather and cigarettes, and somehow  _not_  like the firewhisky he'd been pouring for patrons of the Leaky Cauldron all night. Her father had always smelled faintly of cigarettes too, she remembered, and sobbed harder.

'Hey,' he soothed, his hand moved up her neck and into her hair, and pushed her head gently onto his shoulder, before sliding his hand back down her arm.

'It's all my fault,' Lily suddenly wailed.

'Have you been up every night telling yourself that?'

'Well, it's true! How can I sleep easy knowing that she died because of me?'

'She didn't, Lil. It's  _not your fault_.'

'It's because I'm a mudblood!'

'Don't call yourself that!' Sirius said angrily, grasping her by the shoulders. 'Lily, your blood – it's – it's irrelevant. To anyone who matters, anyway. What happened to your mother shouldn't have happened at all, but it's not your fault. It's all  _theirs_. It's all on the Death Eaters, and don't tell yourself any differently.'

'I know,' she sniffed. 'I do. I just can't stop thinking and –'

'Lily, you won't sleep easy for a long time, I'm not going to lie to you. Merlin knows I didn't after I left home. I thought - I thought after I ran away to James' I'd get into bed and fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, but I didn't. Not for weeks. But it's only been three days. No matter the circumstance, it's hard to get used to being without your parents. And you won't until you get used to the idea that none of this was your fault.'

'James doesn't get it. He thinks he can give me a hug and make it all better.'

'He doesn't really know what to do, Lil.'

'I know. And I feel like a terrible bitch, but, I just don't feel like I can talk to him about it yet.'

'Well, you can talk to me. You could talk to… Elspeth - she doesn't have either of her parents around. Or what about Remus? He had a hard time when he lost his mum.'

Lily let out a sudden sob once more.

'This is so sad! All these kids without parents. All because of those fucking Death Eaters!'

'That's the spirit,' Sirius said, pounding a fist down on the arm of the sofa. 'Fuck them!'

Lily gave a watery laugh and let her head fall back onto Sirius shoulder.

'You don't mind that I'm staying, do you? It'll only be for a few more days.'

'Course not,' he said, 'Just as long as James isn't under the impression that you're going to be here longer. You know I'll have to deal with him moping around once you leave.'

* * *

Dorcas Meadowes was sat in her office cubicle surrounded by precariously balanced stacks of paperwork. She had not even been the one to find the body, not even the one to report the Dark Mark which had glowed over a suburban muggle street earlier that week, but here she was, reliving that horrible night over and over, as she documented the murder of Lily Evans' mother.

She couldn't imagine what it must have been like for the younger girl, to come home happy and silly after a party only to have her entire world shattered like that. Thankfully, the body had been covered before Lily was let in the house. Dorcas had been shocked how much the older woman looked like her daughter - same hair, same eyes, same fair skin and statuesque build. Or at least she assumed so. Mrs Evans was sprawled on the living room floor when she had been found dead.

'Meadowes!' a voice suddenly barked.

She dropped her quill in surprise, knocking her ink bottle over the edge of the desk.

'Meadowes,' said the growling voice again, 'what have I told you? Constant vigilance! You can't go knocking things over every time I sneak up on you.'

'Maybe if you  _didn_ _'_ _t_  sneak up on me…' she hissed, spinning in her chair to find Alastor Moody already waving his wand at the spilt ink, vanishing the stain from the carpet. One thick eyebrow was raised, and his dark eyes were narrowed. He must have been at least 30, and handsome, she supposed, if you liked that rugged kind of thing. He had ruddy skin, as though he had spent his entire working in the sun, a grizzly mane of auburn hair that hung to his chin, a face which was all angles, his strong jaw coated in a short stubble.

'Good practice,' he growled. 'Come on, with me.'

'And  _where_  exactly are we going?' Dorcas asked, as she trotted after the Head Auror, who was stomping between rows of desks.

'A meeting.'

'About  _what?_ '

'Something important.'

'Is there a reason you're always so purposefully vague?' Dorcas huffed.

'Got to maintain an air of mystery,' Moody said, looking back at her, voice dripping with sarcasm.

She was close enough to reach out and grip his coat to pull him out of the way of the desk corner he was about to walk into as he looked over his shoulder at her.

'Constant vigilance,' she warned.

'Watch your tone, Meadowes,' he growled, looking straight ahead.

Dorcas tried to hide a smile as she continued to follow him through the Auror Office.

'Now that I've saved you the embarrassment of tripping over a desk in front of the whole Department, will you tell me where we're going?' she asked.

'A meeting. We're forming a task force. Mainly DMLE employees, but a couple of Unspeakables from the Department of Mysteries - good at thinking outside the box.'

'A task force for what?'

'You'll soon find out. We're here.'

They had arrived in a nondescript hallway, outside a door which had a plaque that read 'Cleaning Supplies' mounted to it.

Moody turned the door handle, revealing a small, sparsely furnished room, where about six people sat around a table. They all looked up as Dorcas and Moody entered the room, the door snapping shut behind them. Dorcas' immediately recognised a couple of people in the room - Connor McKinnon, a tall, curly haired blonde boy wearing a lot of denim, a DMLE worker, who winked at her as she pulled up a chair, and Benjy Fenwick, from the Auror office, tall, dark, and serious, nodded in Moody's direction, then in hers. The next person she noticed was an imposing blonde woman with round tortoiseshell glasses and shrewd blue eyes. Dorcas had the feeling that if she let her mouth - which was set in a frown - curve into a smile, she would be very pretty. Sitting beside the blonde woman was a young Desi witch with thick curly hair, head bent over a notebook, already scribbling away despite the fact that the meeting clearly hadn't begun. Across the table, were a witch and a wizard in midnight blue robes, who wore matching expressionless masks.

'Jin Bai and Eoin O'Hanlon, from the Department of Mysteries,' Moody said, gesturing towards the two robed people. 'Amelia Bones,' he nodded towards the blonde woman, 'Improper Use of Magic, and junior seat in the Wizengamot. And Cecily Nott is an intern in the Wizengamot Administration Service.' The petite Indian witch looked up at the mention of her name and smiled nervously at Dorcas. 'The rest you know. Everyone in this room has been selected to be a part of this task force, and together, we're going to infiltrate the Death Eater ranks.'


End file.
